


You Are Familiar

by orphan_account



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Eventual Smut, M/M, Mind Control, Post-Canon, Tadashi Lives, a lot of resentment on both sides, buckle in children we're going to hell, not the happily ever after you're searching for, sunfire!Tadashi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3562217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fact that he almost wished he’d just <em>stayed dead</em> made Hiro sick to his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Sunfire!Tadashi AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Boys Shouldn't Play Hero

**Author's Note:**

> So I was gonna ramble about how carefully this was actually plotted out, for once, all of that. How this is my fifth active fic that I’m updating, and no, I’m not insane, but instead--
> 
> I just want to take the time to dedicate this to everyone who sent me a kind message today. Those who weren’t anon; I’ll actively link all of your names on tumblr. Those of you who were anon, just so you know, this is dedicated to you just as much as anyone else. Even if that’s just something you know, and no one else, I want you to remember that you inspire me every single day, by being the wonderful, supportive community that you are. I can never write enough to properly show my gratitude.

* * *

 

 

**You are familiar, in ways that I’m looking for.**

 

* * *

 

 

In the first year of Big Hero 6, they spent most of their nights scouring over the city. For a mission, for a rescue, for fun; hours and hours were spent upon Baymax’s back, weaving in loops and arcs through the sky,  leaving any and all stress on the ground. And all the while, there was one, positive message to all of it; they were helping people. _He_ was helping people. From the moment he donned his purple suit, Hiro was helping people. It...made him feel closer. To Tadashi.

Things are hardly just a routine anymore. They’re scheduled.

It was Wasabi’s idea, at first. Juggling school and outside social lives on top of the double life of a superhero wasn’t easy, and week by week, one or the other seemed to take priority. Their grades suffered, their families grew suspicious. In the end, Big Hero 6 wouldn’t work the way it was formed; they needed _a plan, people!_

Suddenly, being a hero meant a lot more research. Through the internet and through Fred’s extensive comic book collection, they immersed themselves in the quest for a solution to their problem. How do you balance a normal life, with a not-so-normal one? How do you make it work, and make it work well?

The answer was simple. They put a limit on themselves.

At the end of the day, Hiro couldn’t save every old lady from having her purse snatched in the street. They couldn’t attend every robbery, every cat stuck up a tree; that was what the police and emergency departments were for, and if they pushed themselves too hard, the ultimate answer was….well. Being a nuisance. It was those things that the police _couldn’t handle,_ those moments when it was make or break; do the deed or watch people get hurt that needed prioritising. It meant setting up a network, sharing potential cases, becoming a little more like the gang from Scooby Doo; one mystery at a time.

Reality sunk in. And that connection to Tadashi faded over time. To the point where it isn’t even something Hiro thinks about now, eyes scanning the city streets from his view in the skies, flashing arrows across his visor telling him exactly which direction his team members were in, just how far. Contrary to the popular belief that big cities never slept, the late hour saw the streets below almost empty, a straggling car heading down the asphalt to an unknown destination.

Not the target, here.

No, their target was more...subtle. A little more insidious. Frowning, Hiro reaches up to adjust his helmet, rolling his shoulders absently. An hour of crouching like this (now that he was actually tall enough to….need to do so) wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, no matter how much he trained himself to stay still for long periods of time. Leaning forwards, he raps his knuckles against Baymax’s shoulder plate, gaining the robot’s attention.

“How’s the readings? Are we any closer?”

A crackle in his earpiece, before the automated voice reads through loud and clear, uninhibited by the rushing wind around them. “My scanners indicate radiation levels of minimal severity for a surrounding mile radius. Concentrations appear to be originating from that building.”

Helpfully, the robot points the way; to a long, dark warehouse, of some kind.

It always has to be long, dark warehouses, doesn’t it?

“Good job, buddy.” His voice sharpens as he continues, taking on a more directive tone. Addressing the whole team, not just his constant companion. “Everybody get that? Location N N E, eleven point two five, three three point seven five.”

“On it.” GoGo comes across first- a quick response, as is her nature. He sees a flash of yellow between two buildings; likely, she’ll be there before he is. A chorus of affirmations follow; focused, for the most part.

“And the nefarious villain’s lair is revealed-- another warehouse.” Except for Fred’s. Of course. “Where’s the originality? This is like, the _fifth_ warehouse. _In a row._ ”

“I dunno; big, empty building, all boarded up due to teenage upstarts? I’d set up shop in that.” Hiro replies, once again adjusting his helmet. It’s getting loose; the only piece of armor he hasn’t had to replace in the past three months. _And probably well overdue, too…_ “Focus, monster boy. Star perimeter, keep your distance. We don’t know what we’re up against.”

“There’ll still be a plan though, right? I mean, c’mon. Big, spooky building. Facing the unknown. Gotta have a plan.” Wasabi’s nervous babble fills the silence next, the feedback crackling more than it should. He’s furthest behind, then; opting for care over speed.

“The plan right now is to take it slow. The closer we get, the more likely we are to know what we’re up against.” The teen frowns, glaring at a few strands of hair that have trapped themselves against his nose. One day, he’d remember to pin it back _before_ putting his headgear on… “Baymax’s scanners have been running for three hours. If we’re too far away, they’re going to overheat. Once we’ve collected some data, we’ll figure out our next step.”

“And chance it _moving_ again _?_ ” GoGo’s quick to intercede, voice sharp. “We’ve been hunting this thing for _weeks;_ if we stay still, it’ll go. I reckon we need to look at sending in a scout.”

“I take it you’re volunteering?” His lips quirk upwards despite himself. “No, we stick together. Play nice with the rest of the nerds. You okay over there, Honey?”

“Almost in position!” It’s practically sung into the microphone. “Hiro; my purse is half down. We’ll have to spend some time in supplies, tomorrow.”

“You got it.” Baymax alights on the roof of the building across from their intended location, and with little fuss, Hiro alights, boots scuffing against the surface. Falling is inevitable with such a sharply sloping surface, but he allows himself to do so; leaning into it and catching himself on Baymax’s outstretched arm; like he knew he would. “Position status.”

One by one, they each register a confirmation; evenly spaced around the building, keeping within the same distance. Wasabi is the last to call in, slightly out of breath.

“In position; now, fearless leader, about that plan?”

“Me and GoGo are going to elope.” He ignores Fred’s low whistle; that’s not what he means, and he _knows it._ Leaving him in charge of the code words was a stupid idea. “GoGo, bottom to top. Slowly. Me and Baymax will take the opposite. Honey, Wasabi, Fred- quarantine. But stay close in case we need a rescue party, alright?”

“Right.” At the very least, the smallest member of their party (it hasn’t been Hiro for a while, even if he’s still coming in a close second) sounds satisfied; into the fray, that was her style. He could count on her to keep low and survey the interior properly, just as he could count on the others to check for any civilian activity and, if necessary? Remove it from the streets closest to them.

“Oh, and Gogo. Did I mention the word _slow?_ ” She pops her gum loudly into the mic in answer. Scoffing, Hiro looks to Baymax, whose optics are focused on the building ahead.

“My thermal readings of the building indicate significant energy levels. I am unable to distinguish the presence of any organic lifeforms inside.”

“Just like the other day.” The activity gets bigger, almost violent-- then stops. Every single time they’ve tracked it down, it stops. Not today. Clambering back onto Baymax, he doesn’t need to prompt him to propel upwards, hissing urgently for GoGo to move.

This was the problem with caution; it was way too slow. Still, they can’t exactly land without care; carbon fiber or not, armor wasn’t made to touch down lightly. As soon as Baymax is on the roof, Hiro’s down again, crouching low as he skirts across the edges of the flat, concrete surface, taking careful consideration of the looming shadows cast from the three exhaust shafts, and the small, square building that must lead into the stairs.

And isn’t navigating those a treat? Each step down is another clank of the nursebot’s boots; something that can’t be helped, but the sounds make Hiro clench his teeth all the same. He has to work on that; some sort of heat resistant, durable fibre that could deaden most of the noise. Maybe that’s more Honey’s department…. he’d talk to her tomorrow.

For now, it’s into the belly of the beast. Finally. It was a lot to ask of his friends, to traipse across town night after night, even if they understood his reasoning for it. He hadn’t been able to concentrate at all outside of their scouting; distracted in his schoolwork, distracted at home. Of course, Baymax was constantly picking up various types of EMR readings; registering something new wasn’t worth the trouble of working himself up over all the time.

But it was if the readings matched those of the Silent Sparrow portal, almost to a t.

“Slow and steady, Baymax...how’s the readings now? Is it working?”

“The EMR activity within the building has left me unable to ascertain a more specific location.” Great.

“Awesome. We’ll just-- do it the manual way then, I guess.” He shakes his head in frustration, raising his voice just slightly. “GoGo, how are you doing?”

“First floor is clean.” She advises promptly. “There’s nothing down here. No boxes, no machinery; it’s empty, Hiro. I’ll start on the second floor. And you, fearless leader?”

“Third floor. Lots of corridors, lots of offices. I’ll start going through them.”

“Be careful.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

At the very least, he isn’t hiding behind a broom, anymore. Hiro’s steps are quiet, but confident; he holds himself tall, keeping close to the wall and nudging the doors open with his boot. One by one. Empty. Empty, empty--

A whole bunch of empty.

Baymax hasn’t said anything by the time he clears the first hallway; his readings aren’t changing then, leaving Hiro to start on the next long line of doors. The rooms seem bigger than they actually are in the darkness, each one holding as much of a dark secret as the last. That is to say, absolutely none at all. Sighing to himself, Hiro quickens his pace, the distance between himself and Baymax widening as he opens one door, then the next--

Sheer luck has him ducking in time. A loud crack and a fizzle, and he doesn’t have to look above him to know the frame of the doorway is aflame, melting under extreme heat. No, he can feel that on the back of his neck, just fine.

Ahead of him, in another blank room, a figure looms out of the darkness, stride quick, hand raised. It’s reminiscent enough of his younger years, for certain; he can almost hear the microbots rising up about them, almost feel the partition rattle under his unsteady steps backwards.

But this isn’t the past, and that hand is _glowing_ and it is time to go. _Now._ He flings himself back as another ball of light is thrown his way; sizzling in the air like burning tungsten. Plasma, his mind supplies helpfully. His body is a little more helpful than that, ducking into a roll before he hits the ground, allowing Hiro to tumble back on to his feet and into a run. Back to Baymax, back to Baymax. C’mon c’mon _c’mon!_

“Baymax, contact!” He shouts; no need for subterfuge now. Skidding, he falls backwards, momentum taking him between the robot’s feet, and safely out of harm. “I need that rescue party up here, guys-- guys?”

Dead silence is his answer. Not even static. Raising his hand, he lightly touches the thick armor around his head-- and pulls his fingers back, hissing. What he’d thought was a miss turned out to be a scrape; a deep scrape, red hot in the fist-sized dent it’s left behind. It must’ve taken out his communicator, too; but surely GoGo heard the sounds. Surely she knew he wouldn’t be making that much noise.

“Baymax, wings!” There’s barely enough space for it, but a large window is dead ahead of them, in the direction he’d just run from. Boarded up, but with Baymax’s armor, it wouldn’t be a problem; they needed to fall back, needed back up. If someone was throwing around plasma concentrated enough to seriously take out part of his helmet, no way would other parts of his suit would withstand it.

Speaking of plasma throwing. His pursuer rounds the doorway; or had rounded the doorway several moments ago, watching him scramble onto Baymax’s back in an almost….still manner. Patiently? Hiro’s hands shake with a new rush of adrenaline, urging his companion forwards before he even locks the magnets into place. “Go. Go!”

“Hiro, t **tttt _ttt_** _ttt-ttt-t_ ” The robot jerks forwards unexpectedly, and Hiro flips right over him, back slamming into the ground and knocking the wind right out of him. His vision distorts, black dots playing at the edges. For a moment, he stares upwards, watching for signs of recognition, for-- something.

Blank optics don’t stare back. He’s not on.

Baymax isn’t on.

_Why isn’t Baymax on?_

He wheezes as he shoves his hands against the concrete floor, chest constricting as he sits upright. The top of his helmet hits an armored chest; motionless and immovable. He’s not _moving._ “Baymax?! Baymax!”

_Shit, he doesn’t have time-!_ Scrambling back between Baymax’s legs proves difficult, body struggling to respond after the shock of impact from such a height-- but it’s the one thing that stops his arm being caught in the figures grasp, close enough now that Hiro can distinctly make out the yellow lines across their jacket, a jagged white strip of scarring across the palm as a mask looms down at him, reflection staring back at him from the plexiglass over the eyes. Baymax’s girth and outstretched wings buy him only fractions of time; enough to get to his feet, enough to start _running_ , pursuer hot on his heels. He needs the stairs; where were the stairs down?!

One ball of that plasma into his spine and he was gone. Tensing, Hiro aborts his dash to curve through one of the doors he’d opened before, slamming it loudly behind him. Between the two of them, surely they’ve made enough noise that GoGo’s registered something’s up. _Surely._

There’s no lock. There’s no furniture to pull over it either, which means bracing himself against the frame and praying. Praying for a miracle; praying that the door is made of heat retardant metal with the strength of twenty folded sheets of carbon fiber- rather than the usual five he uses on their suits. Praying that he doesn’t suddenly feel his spine burning--

Instead, he staggers as a heavy weight slams into the other side of the door. Feet skidding against the floor, Hiro pushes back, grunting with the effort. Honestly, Hiro’s been prototyping a few weapons for himself for the past year; but he has Baymax. They’ve never been a priority, and how _stupid was he_ , always thinking he could hide behind a robot, only relying on physical self defence where needed.

Karate. That’s it; that’s literally all he has left up his sleeve, and there’s no time to think his way out of this one. The figure rams into the door again, gaining a few inches on Hiro; they’re stronger too. Stronger and not winded or strained from falling eight feet to the hard cement. If he doesn’t give them the door, he doesn’t have any element of surprise.

In the brief interim, before the barrier between them can be assaulted once more, Hiro shifts to the side of the frame, opposite the hinges. His aggressor clearly isn't expecting it; they use the same amount of force to get the door open as before, wood crashing into the wall and leaving them to stagger in, lost in their own momentum.

It’s satisfying, landing a solid kick into their stomach. Hiro hears a grunt, definitively masculine, and enjoys the brief, vicious flush of success whilst it lasts.

Not long enough. Hiro’s fist flies, body shifting into a back stance the moment his foot touches the ground. And yet the figure still recovers, arm twisting up into a block like the attack wasn’t just expected, but the _type of attack._

He’s not a beginner. Hiro doesn’t use basic formations-- or any formations, at that. It was something Tadashi had practically beaten out of him, about the only time he’d really ever inflicted so much as a bruise on him. _If you’re going to defend yourself, you can’t be predictable. Don’t be predictable._

Shifting stances is second nature. Back stance, front stance, side stance. Hiro keeps grounded, balanced, but each shift changes the direction of his strikes, the amount of momentum he can place in a certain direction. It’s _not_ predictable, but he’s met at every turn. Block after block that

pushes him right back into the corner. When his elbow hits the wall, Hiro starts in spite of himself; it’s all the opening the other needs to pin him, latching onto his wrists and pinning them to the wall, shoving them up over his head.

A hiss. Head snapping upwards, Hiro watches, horrified, as the hands about his wrists start to glow. It’s not the carbon fiber that melts; the heat isn’t strong enough for that.

No, it’s the thick paint on the walls around them. He can feel the heat through his glove; blistering, if not for the thick padding he’s wearing. It’s not enough to hold him still-- not enough to physically hold him still, at the least.

But it’s a warning all the same.

Silence. Hiro’s chest is heaving, drawing ragged breaths that are just too loud. The other doesn’t even appear out of breath; not even after being kicked in the stomach, and he knows he kicked _hard._ Slowly, his wrists are released.

Hiro knows better than to move them.

The expected beat down never happens; if anything, his compliance releases most of the tension from the other’s shoulders, mask tilting to the side, as if considering him. Considering what to do with him.

Where the _fuck is his backup?_

It happens so quickly he can’t move to protest. One moment, the figure is eerily still-- the next, hands grasp either side of his helmet, fingers pressing at the clasp under his chin. Hiro yells, wrenching his hands from the wall with a noise akin to sticky tape torn from skin. He _fights_ , dropping down to the ground like a rag doll, refusing to allow it to happen. Not his helmet-- they aren’t going to get it off, over his _dead body._

He’s shoved so hard into the wall, he sees stars. Slumping, Hiro once again struggles to draw a breath, protesting wheeze escaping his lips as his fingers latch onto thick wrists; one last attempt at a defence, before he’s blinking under the change of light, night vision gone.

It’s dark. It’s so dark, he can barely make out a thing.

His captor doesn’t appear to be having the same problem. Cupped cheeks are pulled upwards, exposing his face as Hiro scowls heavily, spitting curses into the air. His face is tilted one way, then the other, a distinct...gentling in the motions, a sudden care in the way he’s being handled that takes him by surprise.

What-- what does this person want, exactly?

A hand covers Hiro’s mouth, muffling him. Over his own garbled exclamations, he can hear a noise; a soft ‘ _shh_ ’, a request for silence. The hand moves away once he complies, leaving Hiro to wonder, utterly bewildered by the actions of this--

This isn’t normal villain behavior.

Normal villain behavior doesn’t feel like his face is being _felt up_ , fingers lightly dragging across his lips, over the curve of his jaw. His brow creases, eyes squinting in an attempt to peer into the darkness, to gauge the situation. What’s he dealing with, here?

He might be wrong, but it feels like he’s being memorised. Like a blind person seeing his face for the first time, taking care to touch each and every crevice, to map him out. It’s unsettling-- albeit harmless. Much less so than what he’s already seen those hands do, and he doesn’t understand _how they do that, either._ There’s no protective gloves, no visible wires for that sort of energy to come from. It’s like they’d just pulled it out of their skin, which is crazy.

He’s a superhero, not stupid. There’s a scientific reason behind what he’s seen tonight.

“...Okay, look.” Hiro dares to intrude on the silence, bravado returning, if only fractionally. “Either melt my face off, or _cut it out._ ”

A soft wheeze, like barely contained laughter. The hands fall away...but Hiro knows they’re still there. Right there, crouched in front of him. He’s not about to make the mistake of thinking that they’re not a threat; they (he?) had already proved that. Already fought him, already threatened him. Shown no qualms in physically invoking a dazed response.

“Well that’s a good start. Great job; aced it.” Are they simple minded? He highly doubted it; his reactions were too quick for that. Carefully, Hiro sits up a little more, fingers blindly skimming across the floor beside him, looking for his helmet. It’s probably across the room, but he doesn’t know if he doesn’t try. “You know what’s even better than touching my face? Standing. Standing is pretty awesome. Let’s try that.”

Hiro’s eyes have adjusted enough to at least make out a vague outline; one with shaking shoulders, the only indication of amusement there is. It stops after a moment, and his suggestion goes ignored.

Instead, a finger taps his chest plate in a pointed fashion, before it’s raised in the air, wagging back and forth. What….even? The motion is repeated several times, Hiro tilting his head in consternation, mumbling softly under his breath as he attempts to figure it out. A tap against his armor. Finger in the air, wagging back and forth.

_Little boys shouldn’t play hero._

The revelation must show in his expression, because this time, the laughter isn’t restrained. It’s barked out, short and honest, before being cut off abruptly.

Hiro knows that laughter. He swears, he knows it. His hair is ruffled before the man, definitely a man, stands, looking down at him for a few more moments, nudging him playfully with his boot.

And that’s it. Hiro listens to fading footsteps, heart in his throat, hardly daring to breathe. There’s a tremor running through his fingers that make it difficult to stand, but he does. Because he’s gotta get out of here; gotta find the others, gotta figure out how to fix Baymax. Has to go home before Aunt Cass wakes up; has to go to school in the morning. Has to help out in the cafe tomorrow afternoon and definitely has to start on the pile of homework he’s been neglecting, this past week.

It would be so much easier to do that if he didn’t feel like he’d just been punched in the stomach, Tadashi’s laugh ringing through his head over and over again. It couldn’t be-- of course not, but it was so achingly similar that he can see him there, smiling from ear to ear, stupid hat and stupid, giant ears sticking out of the sides of his stupid head. Laughing at Hiro’s reaction to being teased, ruffling his hair, just to aggravate him more.

He can see him, plain as day.

The image doesn’t fade until Honey walks right through it, hugging him close and looking him over for any damage that’s been done. Fred finds his helmet and sure enough, it’s like someone’s taken to one side with a bat; the entire side is sunken in, misshapen and ugly. It takes five minutes for it to register that they’ve asked him what happened at least twenty times.

Needless to say, it wasn’t a successful night. Not even slightly.

 


	2. Man Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whatever, Hamada.” GoGo smirks at him, and Hiro scowls.
> 
> “Considering your ability relies on you being fast, you took your time coming. How about explaining that instead of jumping down the back of my neck like I’m fu-”
> 
> "Guys, _guys_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: I literally can’t believe this pile of trash has gotten over 1100 hits on one chapter. I’d blame it on Sunfire!Tadashi being such a rare gem in the fanfiction side of the fandom-- but you guys have been pleasantly surprising me with this on some of my other fics, too. How? Why??? These are questions I will never be able to answer.
> 
> But I am undeniably grateful, nonetheless.
> 
> I realise this has been a while in coming and I apologise for that. Things have continued escalating in my life, and I’ve needed some time to get well and get inspired. Still struggling a bit, so hopefully getting this out helps.

* * *

 

 

> **And I almost thought that I could change the past**
> 
> **And I almost, but that never really lasts**
> 
> **Man Down- The Eden Project**

* * *

“Honey totally looks like she’s picking her nose, there.”

Hiro doesn’t look up from his work, though he’s tempted. Very sorely tempted; but he’s sure someone else is looking for him. Honey and Wasabi, most like, with adequately disapproving gazes, to boot.

“Seriously! The angle is _perfect._ It’s like she set herself up for it; Honey Lemon, secret nose picker, revealed!”

“You know that’s not what I was doing, right..?”

“Of course _I do,_ but no one else would. We should totally sell this stuff to one of the big tv stations; Big Brother: Big Hero 6 Edition. Could you imagine the ratings if everyone saw Wasabi running around screaming about that mouse that got in? We could make-”

“Fred.” Putting down his spanner, Hiro wheels around, effectively cutting off all conversation. His team looks… on edge, for the most part. Bracing themselves from whatever explosion they’re likely expecting, but Hiro takes a deep breath to calm himself down, trying to relax a little. “Do you have to do that _right now?_ ”

Across the lab, Fred spins in his chair, expression slightly petulant. The screens in front of him are all paused on Honey holding a petri dish up into the light; at an angle that yeah, okay, does make it look like she’s picking her nose, a little.

Running over the security tapes is important. So important that it’s a regulated task, one of the few absolute commands he’s given his team when it comes to their day to day business. So Fred decided to build them their very own ‘Bat Cave’ under his mansion? Alright, cool. Then security was going to stay tight. Really tight. Check the cameras daily tight.

Just not... not right now.

GoGo pops her gum as Hiro’s hands go up to massage his temples, headache throbbing. He’s been working on Baymax for two hours now; ever since they got him back to the lab, and it’s just- not happening. He can’t get him to start up again, no matter what he tries. There’s something _there_ that’s stopping him from booting up, and despite every angle he’s looked at, Hiro can’t figure out _what._

So no, now is not the best time for Fred to be debating about selling them out for a reality TV show.

“Okay, no television series.” The blond holds his hands up in surrender, slouching in his seat. “But just so you know, your first lecture starts in like...an hour.”

“I’ll podcast it later.” He probably would’ve slept through it anyway, with how late their mission had them out. As is, he could very well be up for missing all of his classes today, if Baymax doesn’t…

Turning back to the robot, he works on manually opening his access port, mentally apologising to his friend for pulling him apart like this. “You guys probably have to go soon, though.”

“You kidding? And leave you to have a mental breakdown?” Wasabi raises a brow at him from his seat. “Thanks, fearless leader, but no thanks. We’ll stay until Baymax is back to normal.”

“What Wasabi said.” GoGo adds flippantly, leafing through a biking magazine. Keeping herself out of the way and occupied, something that Hiro’s eternally grateful for. He doesn’t need to be arguing schematics over the healthcare companion’s total lack of function, not right now.

“We’re with you, Hiro. Just tell us if you need some help.” Honey’s voice comes out as a soft sigh; she’s exhausted, like they all are. “I’m gonna see if Heathcliff can make us some of that hot chocolate he’s so good at… Fred, maybe you can show me where the kitchen is?”

“Like you don’t already know.” He accuses; nevertheless, he stands as well, padding towards the exit in a lazy slouch. “But fine; Hiro needs to work. Gotcha.”

The fact that he doesn’t sound as amiable as usual is about the only indication that he’s feeling as much stress over this as everyone else. Hiro almost feels bad for taking his ire out on the other, but he says nothing as they leave, returning Honey’s quick, understanding smile with a strained one of his own. The door closes solidly behind the two as the cover of Baymax’s access port breaks away from his body with a mildly unpleasant pop, carefully laid on the table as tweezers are taken up next.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Wasabi asks him quietly. “You’ve tried rebooting him in, what? A hundred different ways. Any ideas on what’s going on in there?”

“Maybe. I think the problem is that there isn’t a problem.” Hiro murmurs. His eyes narrow. Gripping his wrist in an attempt to keep his hand steady, he inserts the tweezers into one of the slots, waiting for it to scrape plastic before attempting to grip the chip and pull it out.

Not Tadashi’s, thank god. Never Tadashi’s. He’d be more liable to pull Baymax apart than he would be to _ever_ treat that chip like this; but after a few years of working with the robot, things like memory and additional functions needed a lot more space to effectively store in the robot’s system. Hence, a third chip; blue and entirely nondescript, it was most of Baymax’s memory from the past two years-- and his memory from tonight, if Hiro was lucky.

“If there was actually a problem there, I would’ve come across it by now. But that’s the thing; everything I’ve tried tells me there _is no problem._ Nothing in his fuselage, nothing physical. All his start-up codes and prompts are responding; they’re just not doing what they’re supposed to. There’s something I’m missing- it’s just not a problem, per say.”

“I don’t know about you, but that actually _sounds like_ the problem.”

“You’re just not looking at it from the right angle, then.” Hiro murmurs. Shoving away from the desk beside him, the wheels of his chair roll him over to the monitor Fred had recently vacated, a quick series of commands all it takes to have the screens going black as the computer waits for the data input. Carefully feeding the chip into the correct drive, there’s nothing left to do for a few moments but wait, fingers drumming against the terminal impatiently.

His back is killing him. Once Baymax is operational, no doubt he’ll be on bed rest for the remainder of the day… possibly sooner than that. Hiro glances to the side, and sure enough, GoGo is staring at him again. A little too keyed into how he responds to pain not to have noticed.

“I still can’t believe you left him there.” And they’re back to this again. Hiro rolls his eyes, not in the mood to act good naturedly about the accusation.

“Baymax was fine; he wasn’t the target.” Once he’d shut down, the only target had been Hiro. As his back was happy to remind him, shoulders twinging in pain when he stretches out. “I had two options; project the giant robot wearing armour thicker than my arm, or run before my arm was melted off. Which one would you choose?”

“Whatever, Hamada.” GoGo smirks at him, and Hiro scowls.

“Considering your ability relies on you being _fast,_ you took your time coming. How about explaining _that_ instead of jumping down the back of my neck like I’m fu-”

“Guys, _guys!_ ” Wasabi intrudes, holding his hands up peaceably. “GoGo, lay off. Hiro, computers loaded.”

There’s a moment of silence, tension so thick Hiro swears he could cut it with a knife.

“Fine.” Grudgingly, he turns back to the monitors, fingers flying across the keyboard and sending them into a tizzy of scratched out sounds and images. There were thousands of hours of recording on this chip; hundreds of thousands. As well as the health profiles of every person in the city; as of early yesterday, at least. It was a lot to run over; more than once Hiro had found himself hunched over this very spot late into the night, coffee haphazardly balanced on one knee as he poured through it for the exact piece of information he needed; photographic memory a boon, but not exactly the best for explaining things. He didn’t exactly have a gift for the English language, even after eighteen years.

Eighteen, superhero, robotics genius. Why wasn’t he getting laid, yet?

Right. No time.

A few more careful adjustments, and Hiro’s pretty sure he has it at the right place. He can see himself on the camera- or the edge of his arm, turning the corner into the other corridor. A few seconds after this, he’ll enter the room the masked man had been in, and all hell would break loose.

“C’mere. Make those tired eyes useful, for ten seconds.” He waves his two teammates over, eyes fixed on one of the screens as he starts the recording up.

The hallway lights up before them, not quite large as life, but close enough through the quality recorded on Baymax’s optics, robot toddling round the corner in time for bright sparks to light up ahead, fizzling dangerously. The plasma hitting his helmet and the doorframe.

Wasabi whistles.

“You weren’t kidding about the plasma. It’s not laser based, that’s for sure.”

“No kidding.” Hiro murmurs. Even on camera, it’s easy to see how the air ripples near the doorway; the heat from the blast. He can hear Wasabi and GoGo addressing it in their minds, pointing it down to the most likely source.

But it’s not induction plasma technology. Not any he’s seen before.

As expected, things transition quickly from there. Baymax’s retinas follow Hiro first; unsurprising, since the side of his helmet is glowing from the hit… but Hiro keeps his gaze on the perpetrator. It’s odd, to see it from this view, as it always is, because he remembers precisely what he was seeing at the time, precisely what he was doing.

What’s even more odd is how their perp seems perfectly ready to shoot another ball of blistering heat his way- right up until he sees Baymax. One second, his hand is framed with an intense blue and white ring. The next, gone.

It’s hard to tell with that mask, but Hiro’s dead certain his gaze is focused right on the cameras. The same ones that are very quickly marking up diagnostics around the edges, analysing the man inside and out.

Nice to know his own blood pressure wasn’t the only one peaking, at the time.

The image of a generic human outline lights up green; from what Baymax is picking up, the diagnostics are familiar. So their man is either native to the city, or he’s been here for longer than twenty-four hours. Hiro leans forwards, glancing over the available information and waiting for a match to come up-

_“Baymax, wings!”_

“Hiro, do you see that?” GoGo bumps his shoulder, leaning forwards to point at the screen, but he sees it.

How do you miss bright, blatant text scrawling across the middle of the screen at an impossibly rapid rate, especially when it _shouldn’t be there?_

 

`shutdown.exe -s -t 00 -c "T.H001- trial error".bat`

_“Hiro, ttttttttttt-ttt-t”_

The figure begins to stride forwards, just before the screens go black.

 

 

“…Okay, well that was five kinds of freaky.” Wasabi mutters, wiping a hand over his face in disbelief. GoGo says nothing; but she’s stopped chewing her gum. That’s indication enough. “Hiro..? Hey, fearless leader; you alright?”

No, he’s not alright.

Slowly, Hiro’s fingers ball into fists, slamming down onto the console before him and causing Wasabi to leap a foot in the air. He stands in such a violent motion that his chair skids back several feet, lips pursed into a tight, thin line as his mind runs through the implications of what he’s seen.

“After Tadashi died, you guys were the only ones who went into his office, right?”

“Well- yeah. The door was locked; we had to get security to let us in so we-” Could collect his things. Hiro remembers; he still has boxes of Tadashi’s books and notes stashed under his bed. A lot of it useless and outdated now- four years is a long time in the scientific fields, but-

He knows those papers are under his bed. They’re under his bed _now,_ but for the smallest window of time (was it two days, or three?), they weren’t with anybody.

They were in an office. A locked office, but Hiro knew well enough that locked doors didn’t really stop anyone. Big Hero 6 had done more than their fair share of breaking and entering without leaving a trace that they had… and it was laughably easy.

“That’s Tadashi’s code.” He points at the screens, despite the fact that there’s nothing to see there. They know what he means; _he_ knows what he means. “That code. Tadashi Hamada, trial error. It’s the emergency shutdown sequence he used when Baymax was in alpha testing.”

“Hiro-”

“ _They stole my brother’s notes!_ ” He slams his hands down once more, and the chip jars its way out of the drive. Which is helpful- it means he has something to pick up and _throw across the room_ , right in time to slap Fred in the face before bouncing to the ground with a clatter.

“Ow- fearless leader, not the face!” Balancing a tray of hot chocolate with one hand, he covers his nose and mouth with the other, words muffled. “I need it for my admirers.”

“Hiro?” Honey peers around the injured blond, carefully judging the likelihood that anything else will be thrown before stepping into the room, her own tray of hot drinks placed down on the table as she approaches him, concern evident. “Hiro, what’s wrong?”

“The perp used Tadashi’s emergency batch file to shut Baymax down; an alpha file.” GoGo supplies for him, voice tense. Hiro lets his eyes fall shut at Honey’s gasp, completely unsurprised when her hands cup his face; as physical in her sympathy and comfort as always.

He doesn’t have the words for what he’s thinking, right now.

“Question!” Fred pipes up, stealing Hiro’s seat from the middle of the room and flopping down into it. “How? I mean, we don’t know that. Hiro probably does, because he has Tadashi’s notes, but that stuffs been locked down for years.”

“Not exactly public information, is it?” Hiro’s voice is quiet, volume unable to hide how clipped his tone is. The room falls silent as everyone digests the information, running over the possibilities.

“Hate to say it, but it kind of points towards another…you know who. A tech employee, or student. Or a prior one.” Wasabi says what they’re all thinking, and Hiro can see the look on his face in his mind’s eye; brow furrowed, hands folded in his lap. Old habit; stops him fiddling.

“Well it’s not him, this time. He’s still behind bars, remember?” GoGo is quick to point out, cool and logical in the face of their new insight. “And if he was giving away anything, we’d know by now.”

“Plus, he doesn’t have a reason to tell people anything. He owes Hiro too much.” Honey runs her fingers through his bangs, a gentle respite from the pounding in his head; something to focus on before he throws something else.

“If it’s someone from San Fransokyo, Baymax would’ve identified them though.” Fred reasons. “So how do we boot the big guy back up?”

“Hiro?” He opens his eyes at the prompt, Honey smiling down at him. _It’s okay,_ her eyes tell him, and he takes a deep breath before looking at everyone in turn.

“What do you need, fearless leader?” Wasabi smiles, creases of his eyes slightly deeper than usual, and Hiro tries to give one in turn. They’re all here; all supporting him, all ready to do whatever he needs them to do. It’s his choice.

Being a leader doesn’t mean being perfect; it just means, in times like these…they still trust him. Hiro’s never been more grateful for it.

“Give me a little space, for a while. I’ll get Baymax booted up, see what I can find…let you know once I do.”

“You got it, boss.” Fred gives him a thumbs up, and the others nod in turn, Honey patting his cheeks one more time before leading the way out the door. They’ll drink their hot chocolate, get out of their suits; do whatever they need to do to get through today. Then he’ll get back to them.

First, he’s got a robot to repair. And it’s not really going to be that hard, now that he knows what the problem is. Collecting the chip he’d thrown onto the ground, Hiro checks it carefully before putting it back into Baymax’s chest where it belongs, fingers lingering on the first slot to the left. If he squints, he can see a glimmer of green in there; a small, sloppily written ‘i’ just barely visible.

“Alright buddy. Let’s get back to work.”

`START ["TD0001"] [/D path] [/I] [/MAX] [/SEPARATE]`  
[/HIGH] [/NODE <8>] [/AFFINITY <0>] [/WAIT] [/B]  
[command/program] [PRIMARY_CARE.HH1.exe]

It seems almost ridiculously simple, now that he knows what the issue is. Just a start up prompt that terminates the batch file, and Baymax goes from his slightly slumped state to completely upright, air vacuum whirring to life and filling the vinyl out until he’s back to his usual, marshmallow self. Hiro grins, tiredly up at him as optics light up, immediately focusing upon him.

“Hello, Hiro.”

“Hey, Baymax.” A breathy chuckle, and he leans forwards, letting his forehead rest against his plush stomach. “Had me going there for a while, buddy.”

Plush fingers pat the top of his head in a placating gesture.

“There, there. I am alright.” One day, he’d figure out why Baymax had the ability to be so reassuring without actually being capable of changing the tone of his voice. One day. “You have sustained injuries to your upper back and shoulders.”

“Yeah; you were out for a while there.” Hiro looks up, smiling weakly. “I’m fine, promise. We need to go through your data before I rest up…and I should put the cover to your access port back on.”

Whoops. Unplugging the laptop, he sets it off to the side before scrounging around for his screwdriver, not bothering to hide the wince of pain when he moves a little too quickly.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”

“A four, maybe. I won’t be doing anything after this today, that’s for sure.” He can’t remember what’s better for it, either. Hot or cold compression? Hiro’s sure that heat isn’t the best, but is that only in cases where there’s swelling, or is that cold packs..? Humming quietly to himself, he fits the panel back over the hole in Baymax’s chest, gently flexing the metal until he hears the tell-tale sound of it clicking back into place. “Hot or cold compression?”

“I would recommend, cold compression, due to the recent nature of the injury.” Baymax raises his hand, a single finger pointing upwards as he recites the information from his database. “Recommended periods of compression are twenty minutes every hour, whilst awake. Might I also suggest a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory, such as; ibuprofen?”

“We’ll look into that; there’s bound to be some in the medical bay.” Because every ‘Bat Cave’ needed one of those- state of the art and so well equipped a hospital would be jealous. “For now, I need you to run a few commands, for me. Quarantine any file from in house and beta settings containing the phrase ‘shutdown’, then bring them up on viewpoint.”

“One moment, please.” His optics flicker for a moment, command running through his processor almost instantaneously. Said processor has been updated twice, since Hiro took up his maintenance, and he was almost too happy to reflect on the fact that Baymax was better than quite a few of the world’s super computers.

Mostly thanks to Fred and his father being a little…overly generous, for his eighteenth birthday. Some of the parts he’d been able to work into Baymax Hiro hadn’t even _dared_ to dream about.

Tadashi would’ve been over the moon.

“Scan complete. The following files have been quarantined.” The projector in his chest lights up; as expected, there’s hundreds of files containing that phrase- which is why Hiro would need to check each and every one before deciding to delete any. “I will be unable to enter hibernation mode until several of these files have been restored.”

“As long as you’ve got enough juice to run for another hour or so, that would be a problem.”

“My battery has sufficient power for the timeframe specified.” Baymax agrees pleasantly. Now, if only he could figure out how to make GoGo like this…

Hiro works in silence, for the most part. What needs to be restored is restored, and what isn’t useful anymore stays where it is, until he can find a moment to import it into a backup disc later. It’s not a fun job; in fact, it’s pretty tedious, and more than ever he wishes he’d taken the time to build in a touch screen sensor for just this purpose. It’s rare that he has to run through Baymax’s files whilst his friend is operating, however. So tedium it is.

The part that makes it difficult isn’t the slow process though. It’s the fact that every file he excludes is part of Baymax’s original makeup, from before Hiro even knew he existed. They’re _Tadashi’s files,_ and with each one added to the list, it’s a part of his brother that will leave Baymax forever.

After four years, he doesn’t even know which of them has done more to the robot. Tadashi, or him.

It’s been a long time since he’s even bothered to think about that.

“…Baymax? Do me a favour.”

“Yes, Hiro?”

“Tell me I’m crazy.”

Baymax peers down at him, and on some level, Hiro can sense the concern there. “I see no chemical imbalances that would lead to such a diagnosis.”

“No, no. Not crazy like that. Just…” Hiro runs a hand through his hair, leaning back for a moment. Baymax isn’t going to no; can’t confirm a diagnosis when his system was shut down mid examination- he knows that. The data Baymax had recorded wouldn’t be enough to pinpoint an exact match, so there was little point asking. Just-

“I can’t help thinking that…guy. Was Tadashi.” Hiro laughs at himself, feeling stupid the moment he lets it out of his mouth. “Just- the batch file? The way he laughed- it’s stupid, I know, but I kind of…”

Silence. Slowly, Hiro exhales, shrugging lamely as he finishes explaining himself.

“Part of me wishes it was.”

“It is not abnormal to have such wishes, particularly when being prompted by strong references of loved ones.” Baymax is patting his head again; and Hiro wishes he wouldn’t, because the action makes him feel a lot like he’s fourteen again, not the strong, proud adult he has to be. “Time does not heal wounds; it simply creates space between them. When faced with such references, it may feel like your loss is closer than it once was. I am here for you, Hiro. It will be alright.”

“…Thanks, Baymax.”

Hiro’s exhausted. He can feel his eyelids drooping, and the pain in his back is causing a stiffness that makes it difficult to stand without support. He still needs to go and tell the others the good news; then it’s off to bed, so he can rest up and get back into the thick of it. School. Home. Rebuilding his own armour from scratch, because the level of protection it offered him tonight just wasn’t going to cut it. Running over Baymax a few more times, when he’s awake enough to be certain that he hasn’t missed anything. Then, they have to find their masked man, again.

And he might not have Tadashi here to help him with all that, anymore. But he has his team, and he has Baymax. That’s more than enough, and probably far more than he deserves.

“We better go let Honey fret over you for a while, huh? C’mon.”

They’ve got a long week ahead of them.


	3. A Personal Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how excited I am to continue this story.There has been so much to plot and work out. So much. In fact there’s still a lot of bits and pieces for me to work out, but the majority of important things are sorted after...seven documents and over sixty pages of trying to work it all out, SO UH.
> 
> Time to actually get on with the story, whoo! <3

 

* * *

 

 

**Keep your eyes open, Fireheart. Keep your ears pricked. Keep looking behind you.**

**Because one day I’ll find you, and then you’ll be crow food.**

 

* * *

 

“Sunfire.”

The abrupt declaration is almost lost to Hiro beneath the usual mess of noise echoing about the cafeteria - even more so than usual. SFIT took care of its students, and not only was the food fairly good quality, it was also covered in the semester tuition fees. Lunch hours often found the high ceiling space packed with students, and whilst the overall volume of it hasn’t changed, Hiro’s ability to pay attention has.

If not for Wasabi nudging him gently in the side, he’d still be struggling not to fall asleep on top of his nachos.

“...Sorry, what?”

GoGo rolls her eyes at him whilst Honey makes a noise of sympathy, leaning over the table to touch the back of his hand.

“Hiro, you should go home and get more sleep. You know professor Einburgh won’t mind you listening to his podcasts later.”

“Hate to say it, fearless leader, but those are some wicked shadows under your eyes,” Wasabi agrees, taking a sip of his coffee. Hiro can see him muttering around the rim; words lost, but he’s pretty sure he knows what’s being said.

_More so than usual._

“M’fine,” Hiro mumbles back; casting his eyes down to his food, he shoves a few bites into his mouth; before the mom squad starts to get too concerned and actually _escorts him home._ Wouldn’t be the first time. “Just had some trouble with the suits - but they’ll be ready to go tonight. Next time we go up against the masked- _Sunfire,_ no one will have to worry about going up in flames.”

The difficulty had been in adding some style of insulation to the suits, as well. It’s all well and good to use materials that can endure extreme heat; the bodies inside couldn’t. Changing the interiors of the suit whilst keeping the original shape had been a nightmare...and it was long past overdue for his own suit to have a few more modifications made to it, as well.

He isn’t fourteen anymore. Time to stop hiding behind the robot.

“When.” GoGo leans over the table, eyes narrowed. “And when will be...what? A few weeks down the track after we spend every night trying to find the guy?”

“Possibly,” Hiro concedes grudgingly, fork scraping harshly against his plate. “But we have a better idea of this guy than we did before. If he knows Tadashi’s old codes, he has to be someone at SFIT. Or at least, someone who used to go to SFIT. But the warehouse was only a few blocks away from the university boundaries, so that raises the likelihood that, whoever Sunfire is, he’s still here.”

“That’s not exactly solid proof, Hiro. We could spend weeks monitoring this place and find nothing.”

“We could spent weeks scouting the entire city and find nothing, too. At least if we have a perimeter around the school, we can make this easier on ourselves. Running ourselves ragged over a threat when we don’t actually know what the threat _is_ yet- that’s asking for trouble.” Honey looks at him meaningfully, and Hiro sighs. “Plus, there’s one more thing that makes me believe he’s a student here.”

The sky, grey and overcast through the glass ceiling, takes the opportunity to lead out a loud clap of thunder, noise of the cafeteria dimming before the conversations around them continue.

“...Well that’s a positive sign,” Wasabi groans, staring piteously upwards. “Pray, do tell, fearless leader. What ominous hint did you find in one minute of video feed?”

“I found it, actually,” Honey pipes up, and GoGo raises a brow at her as the blonde meekly rests her hands in her lap. “It’s the clothes he was wearing… they’re mostly old army gear.”

“Old enough to be in an old army outlet store, that’s for sure,” Hiro adds. “This isn’t some big time villain without his own personalised suit; the only thing me and Honey could find that looked modified was the helmet. Everything else was a mix; same pants a pilot would wear, army jacket. The shirt was pretty difficult to make out, but it could’ve been from an old SWAT team uniform. None of the designs matched up with official garments for this year or last year; so they’ve got to be castoffs.”

“A villain with a budget…” Fred muses, rubbing his chin. “Which means everything points to a student; someone without that kind of money to throw around.”

“Or just someone without that sort of finance behind them,” GoGo interjects impatiently. “Look, it’s great that you’ve spent the last week thinking this through so hard; but theories are theories. This guy still has access to some kind of plasma technology none of us have ever seen before. Throwing plasma beams seemingly out of nowhere doesn’t exactly say ‘my tech is cheap’.”

“And no one at the school is working on anything that fits that kind of technology in the first place; we checked that, remember?” Wasabi adds. He’s looks just as dubious as GoGo, and despite their reasoning being sound, Hiro can’t help feeling a small spike of irritation.

“I never said it was perfect, but it’s all we’ve got.”

The table falls silent for a moment. Fred’s humming under his breath, and despite himself Hiro can’t help mentally singing along. _Harnessing the power of the sun with the ancient amulet they found in the basement…._

Well, now he knows where the name Sunfire came from.

“Look, guys- we’ve gone off less than this and it’s turned out okay-”

“We’ve gone off more and had it turn out horribly-”

“That too. But the point is; right now we don’t have much to lose. If we find nothing in a week, that’s fine. We’ll move on. But starting with SFIT and its surroundings establishes a grid to work off, at the very least. A plan.”

“I like plans,” Wasabi murmurs around his cup, and Hiro nods encouragingly. GoGo looks less enthused, but even she nods eventually, slouching down on the bench.

“Fine. But if you want us to start tonight, you have to head home and sleep.”

There’s a chorus of agreement from around the table; funny how they can all agree when it comes to Hiro’s sleeping habits.

“ _Alright,_ fine. Anything else I need to do, mom?”

“Drink a glass of milk, shorty. It was cute when you were fourteen, but now it’s getting embarrassing.”

“Like you’re one to talk!”

“Guys, I will turn this table around, so help me god.”

 

* * *

 

Some things change, and some things stay the same. There are so many aspects of Hiro’s life that are left to chance that sometimes coming home felt like the only really consistent routine he had, wearily climbing the stairs with Baymax’s station in tow. Aunt Cass hadn’t been able to afford him more than a cheerful wave from behind the counter, café still bustling with the lunch time crowd, but Hiro can’t find it in himself to be disappointed.

It really has been a long week, in more ways than one.

“Ow.” Dumping Baymax’s station on the floor, he leaves the robot to inflate himself as he wanders over to his drawers, pulling out something a little more comfortable to sleep in.

Consistency… he supposes he has a lot of constants. Aunt Cass, the gang; his room has changed radically over the past four years, as his interests turned from bot fighting to study. There’s more books than model robots on his shelves these days, and the posters have been replaced with news clippings. Engineering breakthroughs and pioneer technology; a few clippings about Big Hero 6 that he’s chanced leaving about the place; the entire city knew of the fighting team; it was almost more conspicuous not to have anything.

And then there was behind the partition. Unused. Untouched. Hiro pauses in his search, staring over at it with an almost morbid sense of nostalgia.

If he opens it, everything will still be as it was. Maybe a little dusty; his aunt tried to sneak up here from time to time and clean up, but…

“Your neurotransmitter levels are low,” Baymax informs him. “It is likely that you are in need of rest.”

“In a minute, buddy,” Hiro answers softly. Chewing his lip for a moment, he straightens, crossing the room and pulling the partition wide open, as if he has something to prove to himself.

Tadashi’s things are just where he left them; slightly less dusty than Hiro expected… but just where he left them.

“...The masked man is still troubling you.”

“He is. I don’t think he’s going to stop troubling me until we catch him; figure out what his game is.”

“I do not know if finding out his gaming preference will improve your emotional state,” Baymax observes, and Hiro can’t help his smile. Another turn of phrase strikes again.

“It means that I probably won’t feel better until I know what his plans are. If he’s involved with the readings from the portal, nothing good. But we can’t exactly apprehend him when we don’t know if he’s actually done a crime.”

“Even without proof of criminal activity, he still concerns you.” The robot toddles closer as Hiro pats Tadashi’s bed; Aunt Cass washed the sheets. That shouldn’t be disappointing, either. Squeezing past Baymax, he makes for the nearest wardrobe, stomach twisting at the sight of so many familiar articles of clothing. He always dressed like such a _nerd_ … “Is it because of his relation to Tadashi?”

“His relation to Tadashi’s work, at least. I still can’t figure it out.” Hiro rubs his eyes before snatching up a yellow cardigan; it smells like a copious amount of mothballs and dust...but underneath all that, there’s a vague scent that might be Tadashi’s. Possibly. He can’t remember. “We had a- I dunno. Rule? Promise. Hamada brother’s rule four hundred and...something. Hamada brothers only show their work to the outside world when it’s ready.”

...Not that it meant Tadashi couldn’t show someone. Callaghan would have had to see Baymax at some point; there were presentation panels, as well. It was highly doubtful Hiro was the first person to meet Baymax one on one. Anyone could have taken an interest in knowing more about Baymax than Tadashi was willing to tell them, at any time.

And the only person alive likely to have the insight on it was a man Hiro really did not want to see.

“Stupid, right?”

“Tadashi valued your relationship,” Baymax reminds him gently - or as gently as a robot could. “It is highly likely that he honored Hamada brother’s rule four hundred and something.”

“Right. Thanks, buddy.”

It’s against his better judgement to lie down on Tadashi’s bed; the springs creak alarmingly under his weight, and the mattress dips in a manner that speaks of impressions made by a body much larger than his. Hiro curls into it as much as possible, hugging the cardigan close. He closes his eyes - not to pretend, because the world hasn’t changed. Tadashi is still gone.

“It doesn’t make any sense, ‘Dashi. What am I supposed to do, huh?”

  
  


“...Yeah. I dunno either.”

 

* * *

 

SFIT has fantastic security, enough so that setting up base on the campus itself wasn’t an option. There were too many cameras to mess with them all, and it wouldn’t be good for someone to see multiple superheroes popping in and out of the lab.

Fred’s solution is simpler. The Nova Scotia hotel is cheap enough, and Fred has the means to rent them all a room; every room on the top floor. From the window of his “room,” Hiro can see the gardens of the campus, dotted with lights that wind around the pathways, buildings of varying ages lit up in a grand mesh of old and new.

Simpler, but expensive.

“I’m in position, Hiro,” Honey’s voice crackles over the receiver, and Hiro’s eyes scan across the mess of a set up he has in place. Three laptops and two additional screens show him a variety of information: the GPS coordinates of Honey and GoGo, on first shift to scout the city. Vital signs. Images from the cameras set into their helmets flicker in an out, an addition that seemed like a good idea at the time, but probably wasn’t good for a last minute, 4 AM project. He’d fix them up later.

“Roger that. GoGo?”

“I’m there.”

“Awesome. Take it in a circular route; arc out from the campus in a five mile radius. Once you hit the state library, start heading back in. I’ll let you know when me and Fred are heading out, instead.”

Easy roster. Honey and GoGo would take scouting for four hours whilst Hiro monitors the cameras. Then they’d switch, the girls getting some rest while he and Fred took on the action, Wasabi hanging back to cover Hiro’s station and wake the girls if needed. It’s a plan. Satisfying enough for everyone for tonight, at least; they couldn’t complain about Hiro not getting any sleep when they’d sent him home to do just that.

If he hadn’t really slept that much, no one had to know. Staying up for days at a time was a habit he wasn’t exactly keen to fall out of.

“Okay Hiro, I’m heading out. I’ll keep you posted if anything comes up.”

“I’ll probably see it before you do. Keep in contact and stay safe.”

“We’re cool, fearless leader. Just go grab some coffee.”

“It’s going to be a long night,” Hiro sighs over his shoulder. Baymax tilts his head in response, armor awkward in comparison to the overly delicate furniture lining the room. Pushing away from the desk, Hiro takes GoGo’s suggestion and puts the kettle on, one eye on the cameras as he fixes up something strong to stave off the boredom.  He has homework sitting there as well, just waiting for him to attempt it… but when he sits down, Hiro can’t bring himself to touch it.

Amazing how quickly four hours can fly by when all he does is alternate between checking screens and doodling, frowning over a few half assed ideas for further innovations to his own suit. He’d based everyone’s off their abilities at the time they’d first established Big Hero 6, but bot fights and old tech he refused to touch weren’t exactly what he was looking for…

It was surprising to realise that in comparison to everyone else, his own inventive traits seemed really… general.

A tap on the window, and he’s scrambling back out of his chair to let Honey in, the blonde lifting her helmet off with a soft sigh, shaking her hair out of her face.

“Nothing,” she tells him, perching on the bed as GoGo crawls in after her. “But my scanner ran out of power about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Mine’s out as well,” GoGo announces, falling back onto the bed and kicking her legs up, discs dangling over the edge. “Still, the EMR readings were minimal. Nothing like Baymax keeps picking up.”

Hiro frowns, picking up one of the helmets and examining it critically. They were technically downgraded versions of Baymax’s scanner; indicators, rather than retainers of information. Tadashi’s notes on the scanner were extensive, but maybe he’d fiddled around a little too much with them.

“They shouldn’t have run out of charge yet. I’ll check them over before class.”

First things first; he has to get Baymax out the window. The robot’s lack of flexibility on top of his size has the three of them shoving at him with all their might, a few sounds of metal scraping against the window frame making Hiro wince before he falls out completely, the soft hum of his engines picking up enough to assuage any concerns of him slamming right into the ground, nine stories down. Wasabi enters just in time to be absolutely no help, shaking his head at them as he heads over to the desk, a pot of coffee in one hand.

“Fred’s room has a balcony, you know. Might want to shift operations over there, tomorrow.”

“Would’ve had them in there from the start, if Fred let us know there was a balcony.” Hiro rolls his eyes, leaping onto the windowsill and looking down to see Baymax hovering just below, ready and waiting. “Speaking of Fred-”

“Already heading into position. Now scoot, before he decides to take a detour.”

Hiro’s response is dry. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Good job tonight, guys; get some rest.”

Dropping down, Hiro lands awkwardly on Baymax’s armor, barely managing to catch himself before he winds up slipping right off and taking a not so fun trip straight to the ground. They don’t move until he’s settled, gliding silently around SFIT before starting their sweep.

“Hey, Fred. How do you deal with having your shins covered all the time?”

“Dunno, man. How do you deal with having your shins uncovered when people are constantly trying to shoot you?” Hiro snorts, ducking his head to hide a grin that no one can see.

“Point. You know the route you’re on, right?”

“Yeup. Let me guess; you’re gonna deviate, right?”

“Me and Baymax can cover a wider area than you. No ice cream this time, alright?”

“Like there’s any parlours open at this hour…”

Chuckling, Hiro cuts the feed, eyes drifting to the city passing below. They weave between buildings, motions slower than they may have been if it was just a joy ride, but freeing all the same.

And his legs aren’t cold, either. Isn’t that surprising?

“Anything, buddy?”

“My scanners are not indicating similar signs as prior nights.”

“Alright, bud. Keep scanning…”

It’s fruitless. Realistically, Hiro knew it would be; it’d be dumb luck to find who they’re looking for on the first night, but it’s no less frustrating because of it. There’s too much city to cover for six people, and too few leads to go on. They may as well be looking for a needle in a haystack for all good tonight’s done them. Reluctantly, Hiro orders Baymax to turn about, mood slowly souring the closer they get to the hotel.

The next night isn’t any better.

The third night is just as promising; with the entire team running on little sleep, morale is low. Hiro spends more time snapping at GoGo when she deviates from her route than he does anything else, Honey attempting to play peacemaker all the while.

It’s a _relief_ to get back on Baymax, taking off without a word to scour the streets for absolutely no fucking reason. He’s going to have to start branching this out. Give his team a few days off as he does some monitoring in his own time-

“Hiro?”

The teen in question bolts upright from his slumped position, almost vaulting over Baymax when the robot comes to a halt.

“What? What is it, buddy? Did you pick up-?”

“EMR levels are unchanged. However, I am picking up substantial heat from that building.” Baymax points as Hiro’s spirits plummet.

“Baymax, that could be anything-”

“It is peaking at several thousand degrees celsius. By my calculations, the temperature matches the heat required for plasma to be produced.”

Hiro stills, leaning further over Baymax to look at the building more closely. It doesn’t look like much - mostly non-descript - but a sign catches his attention, and he has to stop himself from laughing wildly.

A fucking army depot. GoGo would be _thrilled._

“Fred, I need you at my coordinates five minutes ago. Wasabi, input the locations to Fred and get the girls. Meet us here as soon as possible.”

“ _You found it?_ ”

“Dunno yet, but something’s off. We don’t have time for stalling; expect action upon arrival.”

“On it. That is _not_ a plan, by the way.”

“I got your back, dude! Incoming in t-minus two minutes!”

“Make it one. Baymax, get me closer.”

It’s just a store; a large store, but the security isn’t much. Hiro finds no issues cutting power to the building, fingers a practical blur over the small computer in the wrist of his glove as they hover at the best vantage point possible; capable of seeing whether anyone makes a speedy getaway in the interim.

“I’m two blocks away, dude! How’re we doing this?”

“Gonna have to break windows. We’ll take the left; Fred, take the right side. Guys, once you get here, set up a perimeter.” Go time. Hiro slaps his hand down onto the magnet, crouching low on Baymax’s back as he hisses orders, and with a grand arc in the sky that’s - not necessary at all; he really needs to speak to Baymax about that, into the building they go, complete with shattering glass and a loud crunch as they hit the ground.

It’s pitch black inside; not what he expected. Not when someone was using plasma not moments ago. On the opposite side of the store, he hears another window shatter; a vague outline in the moonlight - Fred, complete with the inevitable humming of whatever action movie theme song he feels like serenading them with tonight.

“Hey, focus!” Hiro hisses into his mic, and the humming abruptly trails off into a few light grumbles. Sliding down from his perch, Hiro carefully steps away from Baymax, eyes scanning over the racks of clothing with a critical eye. He can’t see a single thing out of place, and as he turns to indicate this to his companions -

The whole room lights up.

It also gets warmer. A lot warmer.

“Holy _mother of Megazon!”_ Fred yelps, and Hiro can’t blame him at all. He was expecting projectiles; balls of plasma aimed for his head or back; what he’s seeing right now is beyond belief.

It’s plasma alright. In the shape of a human figure, it stands between two racks of clothing that have already ignited. The glow is white hot, flickering between white and an eerie blue as their suspect - it has to be their suspect - turns on his heels and bolts.

Right out a melted hole in the fucking _brick wall._

“Don’t lose him! Baymax!” Baymax’s arm shoots out, wrapping about his waist and slinging Hiro onto his shoulder as he takes off; Hiro feels the impact of glass breaking over his armor when they fly right through another window, Sunfire streaking away from them in a fiery dance that leaves melted footprints in the asphalt.

He’s only wearing old army kits; not a complete fire-retardant get up.

“Guys, we’ve got a change of plans!” Look for the giant glowing ball of plasma running down fifth.”

“ _Excuse me?!_ Hiro, what the hell-”

“Just do it!” Fred is leaping along the street after him; and they both veer off to the side as the figure pauses long enough to fling a projectile their way. Looking back, Hiro watches it rocket off into the sky, exhaling harshly at the thought of that hitting a building.

He needs a plan. He needs a plan _real fucking quick,_ or they’re going to burn the entire city down.

“Honey; we need you. How much carbon monoxide are you packing?” Hand flying to the computer on his wrist, Hiro steers Baymax around, heading to her location.

“A bit- Hiro, what’s going on?”

“You guys going to wait up or what?! Some of us don’t have magic springs and robots!” Wasabi adds in, clearly agitated.

“We need dry ice. A lot of dry ice. Heads up.” The team isn’t that far away, and as they dip down to collect Honey, she’s ready for them; vaulting up off some railing on the side of the road and clutching at Hiro’s shoulder as he catches her about the waist, hefting her to sit in front of him. Baymax veers sharply; back to Fred’s co-ordinates, still moving rapidly after Sunfire.

“Hiro - is that Sunfire?” Honey sounds horrified, and as Hiro glances below them at the slightly glowing footprints sunk into the road, he can’t blame her.

“That’s him. I mean, the whole setting his entire body on fire thing is new, but I’d put money on that being him. Dry ice, Honey- you think you can aim from up here?”

“I guess, but Hiro, I don’t know if it’ll - _duck!_ ” Honey pulls him down as Baymax throws himself into a wild spin; another projectile sizzling viciously as it rushes past them. Another glowing orb lost in the sky. “Hiro, I don’t think dry ice is going to stop that!”

“Just try!” Because he can’t think of any other equipment they have on them right now that may be able to stop him. Maybe, if one of them could get close enough to knock the guy out- but _how_ and with _what?_ Sunfire isn’t even moving all that fast; not in comparison to Baymax. Not in comparison to GoGo, either, looping cautious circles about him.

He pauses rarely; and every time, it’s to fire. Baymax ducks and weaves, the pattern of it erratic. There’s something off about his actions, and Hiro can’t figure out why. Like he’s toying with them…

“Here goes!” Leaning over, Honey lobs a purple ball at the flaming, humanoid mass- Hiro whoops at the apparent direct hit, only to falter as Sunfire just- keeps going. Like it didn’t hit him at all.

“This is insane…”

“It is insane - _and I still can’t see it!_ ” Wasabi yells.

“Hiro, alleyway!” GoGo barks; she doesn’t need to. He can see it as clear as day; that burning mass taking an abrupt turn onto a narrower street, their altitude only offering the view of a bright glow heading inwards. “Cover me!”

“GoGo, no! We can’t get a good view-” But she’s already heading down, Fred on her heels. Hiro spits curses into the air, fist slamming down onto Baymax’s armor; in front of him, Honey leans almost dangerously forward, expression tense as she tries to make out what’s happening.

The glowing brightens almost abruptly; like the sun’s just touched down on the earth-

And then it’s gone.

“GoGo? Fred, what happened?”

“He melted a hole in the ground; he’s in the sewers.” GoGo answers, tone disgusted. “Fred went after him...but it’s no good. We don’t have the equipment for this.”

“...No we don’t.” Hiro tries to keep his frustrations at bay, hands balled into fists as Honey looks to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Fred; back up, man. We’re not getting him tonight.”

“Big Hero 6...foiled again.” Fred groans back, and for several moments, the feed goes silent.

“So...guys?” Wasabi pipes up. He sounds winded, and in the next street over, Hiro can see a lone figure running past the blazing inferno that _was_ the army depot, dodging still glowing footprints as they go. “Anyone want to recap what just happened?”

“...At the hotel. We need to get scarce; guys, we’ll pick you up.”

“Fantastic…”

 

* * *

 

GoGo’s pacing is driving him mad. Hiro watches her motions; back and forth in sharp, angry motions that shed more than enough light to how badly asking her to stop would go. Honey is perched on the bed next to him, nervously playing with his fingers as Wasabi slumps in the doorway, fingers rubbing at his temples.

Fred is in the shower, after some serious group voting on the matter.

Would’ve been funny if any of them were actually in the mood to laugh.

“...I thought we were going after a guy who shoots plasma, not the human torch.” Wasabi murmurs, and Honey hums in agreement. “That’s not- normal. People don’t just light up like the fourth of July and _live._ ”

“No shit, Sherlock.” GoGo shakes her head at him, hands gestures just as cutting as her footsteps. “We had no idea what we were up against tonight. None. Do you have any more big ideas for us, fearless leader? Because I’m out.”

“He could’ve lit the entire block on fire.” Honey whispers. As much as she’s trying to soothe him, Hiro can feel the tremble in her fingertips. The whole team is shaken up; looking for an answer. Looking for someone to blame.

“I messed up.” Hiro says. Almost immediately, four sets of eyes rest on his face. He stares back as passively as he can, insides pitching sharply. “GoGo was right; we didn’t have enough information. I shouldn’t have gone into the building.”

“You didn’t know, Hiro.” Honey protests gently, squeezing his hand. Even GoGo gives him a shrug, slumping down to sit at his other side, nudging his shoulder in a slightly less aggressive gesture. “We all wanted to catch Sunfire; we just didn’t expect him to do something so…”

“Scientifically impossible.” GoGo finishes. They all go silent at that, each lost in their own thoughts.

It was scientifically impossible. After setting himself alight, Sunfire had just- gone for a leisurely jog, almost. Down the street and away from them all; one building as casualty; no other injuries or public property lost. Just a lot of mysterious footprints for the media to comment on; reporters just as confused by the mysterious events as they were.

Honestly, it was a miracle that none of them had been hurt. Dumb luck, maybe - but then again, the guy had aim so bad Baymax barely needed to weave as much as he was -

“He wasn’t aiming at us.” The realization has Hiro bolting upright, eyes wide has his mind plays over the entire chase. They’d never been a threat to him, that much was sure, but then - “He never aimed at GoGo or Fred. Not once. And every shot that went our way was too far off course. He didn’t want to hit anything.”

“So now our mystery guy has a heart of gold?” Fred strolls in; hair damp and expression disgruntled. He flops down into the bed, waving his hands in the air in disgusted motions. “Whatever man; he set that whole building on fire. So what if he didn’t aim for us?”

“The little man has a point,” Wasabi argues. “For all intents and purposes; you guys were just targets. Flies. There’s only so much this armor could take; he could’ve melted you guys into the floor and left you there.”

“What’s his deal, then?” GoGo questions, foot bouncing up and down in agitation. She hates this as much as he does, Hiro thinks. She hates being made a fool of. "Because he wasn't exactly standing around making friends."

“Baymax’s scanner.” All eyes drift to the red station tucked quietly away in the corner, Baymax already down for the night. “I already looked over the footage; the heat interfered with his scanners; he couldn’t get a match.”

“So not only does this guy know we’re after him, but we’re back to zero.” Fred states. his voice flat. Hiro swallows against the bitter feeling in his throat, mind a series of questions that have absolutely no answers.

_‘Dashi, what am I supposed to do, huh?_

“...Yeah. We are.”

Knowing that he’s never going to get an answer doesn’t make it any better.

 

* * *

 

“Hiro!” The cafe is loud and bustling when he enters; but today it’s not enough to stop Aunt Cass. She’s on him the moment he steps through the door, pulling him into a hug that’s gratefully returned. “Welcome back! Sweetie...you look exhausted. Project take that much out of you..?”

“Yeah. Still not done, either.” Hiro offers her a weak grin, thankful that he hadn’t made the effort to carry Baymax back home with him. Fred would drop him off later; once he’d taken the big guy down into the labs and ensured his data was properly back up on the computers. He could already see the work piling up for him; more frustrating hours of pouring over data that revealed absolutely nothing new, trying to work out technology that, in all respects, didn’t actually exist.

He was starting to consider believing in sorcery.

“Well it can wait a few hours, sweetheart. Get your butt up the stairs and into bed! I’ll bring some lunch up for you later.” She kisses his forehead, brushing locks out of his eyes in an affectionate gesture before escorting him to the stairs, nudging him forwards. “I love you. Welcome home, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, Aunt Cass. I’ll come down and help with closing.”

“Don’t even think about it. _Sleep._ ”

Trudging up the stairs, Hiro has so much to think about that his mind feels numb; no train of thought sticks; too few hours of sleep making actual thought almost impossible. He just wants to fall into bed and never get out again; maybe crawl into Tadashi’s, just for the sake of knowing he can - familiar and consistent -

He stops dead on the landing to his bedroom, spine going rigid in shock as he takes the room in.

Seconds later, his phone is out, thumb jamming the speed dial as his breathing quickens, just short of hyperventilating.

“Hiro? Dude, Baymax is fine-”

“He knows where I live.”

“We’re coming now. Get out of the house.”

“I can’t- Aunt Cass would f-- _fuck. He destroyed it._ ”

His entire room is in shambles. Partition torn apart and mattresses flipped over, clothes cast across the floor, doors on Tadashi’s wardrobe hanging off the hinges.

It’s not even like it’s been raided. It’s like it’s been torn apart.

“He destroyed everything.”

There’s red dots all over the wooden floor. It’s not hard to find the source; all Hiro has to do is look up, and there it is. Emblazoned in bright red spray paint; a two word message, just for him.

 

**_BACK OFF_ **


	4. Careful (making wishes in the dark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If it gets to you, it’s all over.”

* * *

 

**‘Love’ is the only weapon I have**

**I will defend with love**

**I will attack with love.**

**-Amit Kalantri**

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay!” The word is puffed out as the last bag is placed into the boot of the car, door slamming down with a loud thunk. The driver looks less than impressed, but he heads around to the driver’s seat wordlessly, starting the engine. “So there’s enough pre-made dinners in the freezer for a week, and some money for take-out. _Try_ to cook something for yourself and _do not_ live off gummy bears for two weeks. The roster’s done and everyone knows their shifts; Frank’ll be in the kitchen though, so if anyone doesn’t show up or calls in sick, he’ll take care of it. The washing machine is set to cold because _I know you;_ you’ll turn all your clothes pink otherwise-”

“Aunt Cass, I know how to use the washing machine.” Hiro cuts in, rolling his eyes. Fred’s stood beside him, holding his aunt’s handbag and looking entirely too amused for a guy who probably hasn’t seen a washing machine in his lifetime.

“Hiro Hamada, I am going away for three weeks. Let me fuss for two seconds.” Cass scolds, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re not so old that I don’t remember you crying whenever I went to the store without you.”

“And yet I’m still old enough to wish that your memory was poor.”

“Cheeky, dude.” Fred comments, and Aunt Cass snorts, pulling Hiro into a hug.

“You sure you’ll be okay, sweetie?” The words are mumbled into his hair, and Hiro smiles softly, returning the tight hold with one just as strong. Will he be okay, separating from his aunt for the first time in four years?

“Course I will; don’t worry about me.” He murmurs back, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Just enjoy your break; you’ve earned it.”

“Three weeks in Hawaii and two thousand dollars spending money says I will; can’t believe I won that competition!” Looking positively gleeful, Aunt Cass pulls away, converging on Fred next. “You be good too, you hear me? Take care of my boy please.”

“You got it, Aunt Cass. I’ll keep him safe for you.”

“That’s my Freddie.” Sighing, she takes her handbag and looks to the taxi, enthusiasm warring with hesitation. She’s going to worry about him, Hiro knows. It’s a big step for them to take. “I better go, huh? Be good, boys. Make sure you call me.”

“And make sure _you_ let me know you got there safe.” Hiro reminds her pointedly. She flaps a hand at him, giggling like a schoolgirl when Fred opens the passenger side door with an over exaggerated bow.

“Oh, and...Aunt Cass?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

Hiro steps forwards, pulling his aunt into an embrace that’s promptly returned.

“...Last hug.” He says, burying his face in her shoulder. Cass huffs out a tearful laugh, squeezing him tightly.

“Love you, my little man.”

Hiro soaks her in for as long as he can before helping his aunt into the car, reluctantly shutting the door and stepping back onto the sidewalk. A moment later, the taxi pulls away, Cass hanging out the window and waving to them frantically.

“Aloha!” She calls out, and the two of them yell it back, watching as she travels down the street, and out of sight.

“...Thanks for setting this up, Fred.”

“No problem, dude.” The blond shoves his hands into his pockets, expression solemn. “She’ll be safer out of town. At least the weather’s nice in Honolulu.”

“Bit of rain never stopped her.” Hiro mutters. He looks to the sky; grey and overcast, just like it has been for weeks. If there was another storm on the way, no one would be surprised. “Never stopped us, either.”

Fred hums in acknowledgement, and together the two of them head back inside. They might as well collect Hiro’s things now; he wouldn’t be home for a few days, at least. “Tonight, then?”

“Tonight.”

 

* * *

 

For the past five weeks, Big Hero 6 had been on lockdown. No missions. Not a word breathed about it in the cafeteria or the student labs; and their base had been almost too empty, whenever Hiro had snuck out to it. Just him and Baymax, aside from a few rare interruptions by Fred.

There’d been plenty to keep them busy. Mid terms. Work. Rigging a fake contest to get Aunt Cass out of town. Refurbishing his room before she came upstairs and saw what had happened.

It had been busy. But not a single day had gone by where Hiro hadn’t thought of Sunfire.

Playing his game was a short term measure which was equal amounts cautious and frustrating. The damage to his room had been bad enough; there were so many things Hiro couldn’t replace. Walls could be repainted… but Tadashi’s notes couldn’t be saved. His books. His bedsheets.

And when Sunfire had wrecked havoc upon Hiro’s personal space, Aunt Cass would have been two floors away, at best. Unaware of the danger only a spontaneous laundry run away.

It was too close to home. Which simply meant they’d have to return the favor.

“So. San Fran Tech started out as a couple of buildings smack bang in the middle of the old business district.” Fred informs the group. Laying a map out over the table, he continues, fingers tracing along a series of black lines connected in a disjointed web across the campus buildings and grounds. “It wasn’t a great area for a whole bunch of students running back and forth to classes, so when the university started getting bigger, they got permission for some pedestrian tunnels underground. Added some spaces for shops and classrooms, started buying out the buildings above them. Eventually it all turned into the big ass campus we know and love; when they added in the man made water fronts, some of those tunnels were closed off or destroyed.”

He looks up at them all with a grin, voice taking on a darker, mysterious tone that has GoGo rolling her eyes. “They still use some for maintenance though; I’ve jogged down them when there’s events taking place in various parts of the campus. _And_ there’s like, a dozen or so areas with permits and building cost receipts for subterranean development to take place- but no maps.”

“I’ve had Baymax with me whenever I leave the cafe,” Hiro adds. Leaning forwards, he taps the map, finger running over the usual path he takes through the campus grounds each day. “This past week, he’s been picking up the EMR readings we’ve been looking for- the ones that led us to Sunfire the first time. Always on campus.”

“So Sunfire has a hidey hole.” GoGo frowns down at the map, popping her gum with a sharp snap. “You said some of the tunnels are collapsed, right? Where?”

“Let me show you.” Pulling a highlighter out of his pocket, Fred drags the map closer to himself, scribbling away madly as the rest of the group converse around him.

“I’ve made some adjustments to the suits; revamped them entirely, actually.” Hiro informs, tapping the table. The large monitor lights up beneath the glass as he navigates the system, bringing up the new designs. “They’re new entirely; no bare skin, way more durable under heat and pressure. The insulation was the hard part, but whatever’s happening to the exoskeleton isn’t going to affect the core temperature that much. Honey designed some chemballs that are attached inside panels located at the wrists; dry ice, monoammonium phosphate. Fluorocarbon. Miniature fire extinguishers, for the most part. There’s still a possibility they won’t work on Sunfire, but they’re extra protection. Usual gear still applies.”

“Nice one,” Wasabi actually looks impressed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his chin. “It’s something, alright; but it’s not exactly a fool proof plan on taking this guy down.”

“Our biggest issue last time was the potential for civilian casualties,” Honey supplies gently. She’s looking carefully down at the diagrams displayed on the table top; but Hiro can tell she’s pleased. Praise from Wasabi was high praise indeed. “Underground, we won’t have that problem. The biggest issue is not causing a cave in; but Sunfire’s going to have the same problem. We’re more likely to get away with going all out than he is.”

“There’s one more thing I’m banking on.” Hiro says, and every eye in the room turns to him. He clears his throat, looking down as Fred slides the map his way; sections highlighted and a few notes scrawled across the top. He makes a mental note to get that onto a computer; add the data to everyone’s headgear. It could be lifesaving.

“Sunfire’s plasma...it’s stronger than Wasabi’s. Working off a whole different system, at that. If it wasn’t for how much you’d already refined your work, I never would’ve been able to make use of it. Too much power needed.”

Wasabi looks pleased- then understanding, eyebrows raising in surprise as Hiro grins.

“So what you’re saying is, dude’s got a timelimit.” Fred says slowly. “Too much firepower- not enough juice.”

“If he’s relying on some sort of energy source that’s strapped under his clothes, yeah. I figure he’s got maybe...ten, fifteen minutes tops, if he’s working with the best materials possible.”

“So if we’d followed him into the sewers the other day, we could’ve got him.” GoGo cuts in, and Hiro shrugs at her.

“Maybe. But we didn’t know that then. It wasn’t until we reviewed Baymax’s data that we really saw what this guy could do.”

“Okay, but say he is working with the best materials. Say...oh, I don’t know.” Wasabi waves a hand, expression pensive. “Say he’s got something up his sleeve that gives him way more time than that.”

“Then he’s working with technology at least twenty years ahead of our time.”

“Or it’s aliens.” Fred tacks on, room falling silent as the blond ducks under GoGo’s open palm.

A meeting room didn’t seem like anything important at the time; but Hiro has to hand it to Fred; actually sitting down with his team in an environment made to discuss and plan out their actions really did come in handy...even if the space wasn’t quite big enough to fit Baymax’s enormous frame.

It also gave him the opportunity to look at everyone’s faces. Usually, he’d expect to see questions; plenty of questions, in Wasabi’s case. All the things that he might have missed coming to light, every single issue of safety tossed his way.

This time is different. They’ve all had five, long weeks to think about Sunfire; at large and clearly aware of who they were, where they lived.

Who their loved ones are.

“We’ve got one chance to surprise him.” Hiro eventually says, expression set as he looks to his team, one by one. “Sunfire has to know we’re still looking for him...but he _doesn’t_ know we’ve been looking underground. We get to him, cut off any escapes; ride out the fight until he’s used up all his energy supplies.”

“Solid plan until we hit a surprise.” Wasabi concedes, sighing.

“Not much else we can do but plan _when_ we hit those surprises. Fred, I’ll take the map and transcribe the data so we’ve got it when we need it. GoGo; gonna need a hand to configure the security cameras on campus; loop the ones we need to get to, shut down a few somewhere else. Keep ‘em busy and buy us some time.”

“On it.” GoGo gives him a lazy salute as she pushes her chair back, letting it hit the wall. She heads out of the room; possibly to cause more chaos than he’s asking for, but Hiro has faith that she won’t make it obvious.

“You want me to get Baymax ready, Hiro?” Honey questions; she’s already rising from her seat, his answer not at all important. Whether he wants her to or not, she’d get it done.

Good thing he actually appreciates the help, nodding with a grateful smile as she smiles back and heads out.

“...So, serious talk, here.” Wasabi murmurs. He glances at the doorway before leaning over, expression serious. “What if he _doesn’t_ run out of juice.”

Hiro bites his lip, and Fred pipes up before he can formulate an answer.

“Then we make sure Aunt Cass doesn’t come back to her nephew in a body bag, ‘cause if she does, we’ll all be in one anyway.”

 

* * *

 

“You know, maybe Sunfire isn’t that bad. Maybe he’s a nice, logical kind of guy who’d prefer to go to a nice, wide open field and fight it out there.”

“Wasabi, stop. Woman up.”

“He has a point...Freddie, I thought this place would be...lighter.”

“It’s after hours. What do you want me to do, sneak upstairs and flick the lights on?”

“ _Guys._ It’s fine, just- _silent approach?”_ Hiro hisses, and with a few mumbled apologies, the team falls into silence.

Sad to say it, but he really wishes he could voice his agreement with Wasabi’s nervous chatter. It’s...dark. Of course it’s dark- but to make matters even worse, the corridors walls curve up into semi circles that make walking more than two abreast impossible. Poor Baymax takes the rear, hindered even without the additional bulk of wings on his back and the added height of rockets strapped to his feet. No use for them in here.

It’s slow going, but at least they’re in. Hiro and GoGo take point without question, the infrared illuminators in their helms doing the job and making every step less of a hesitant question of ‘ _what will I be stepping in next_ ’. As far as Hiro can see is just...corridor. Illuminated in a sickly green that offers very little respite from the tension in his shoulders.

But he thinks of Aunt Cass. He thinks of Honey’s multitude of little brothers and sisters. Of Wasabi’s mom, who’d probably bury herself in trash if not for her exceptionally neat son. Of mister Lee, who’d been an exceptionally kind and generous benefactor to their science and their team. GoGo’s two older brothers; just as short as she was, but exceptional mechanics that Hiro would rather not cross, ever.

If he thinks of why they’re here, it makes it easier to move forward.

“Oh my gosh…” Honey whispers as they come across their first junction; an oval room, practically bigger than a football stadium. Along the walls, Hiro can make out starck, rectangular outlines; old shops that have been closed off for who knows how long. Dotted about the place are a few benches; tables that have been damaged in some way or another, left to rot. “Freddie, you come down here _willingly?”_

“It’s faster,” Fred shrugs, stepping forward and pointing out a further two exits, one closed off with an iron gate and a large sign stating ‘KEEP OUT’. “That way will lead us around; closer to the exhibition halls. That way… Ito Lab. But I know for sure that one of the tunnels connecting to it was damaged in the lake’s construction, so it could be pretty difficult to get through.”

“And that way?” Hiro interrupts, pointing towards a third gate, mostly boarded up. More warning signs; though if anything, the gate looks a lot less maintained. It wouldn’t take much to worm his way in there…

“Old docking area for the shops. Past those, though, there’s supposedly more development area...best I could make out was that they were looking to put in a car park, or something.”

“Huh…” He stares at it thoughtfully, until Wasabi brushes past him, voice a little louder than Hiro would like.

“No. Nuh-uh. We keep going round, first. Leave the spooky crevices as a last option, thank you.”

“Honestly…” GoGo goes after him, muttering under her breath about staying together, and Hiro shakes his head at the both of them before Baymax catches his eye.

“How you doing, buddy? It’s a little cramped in those hallways, huh.”

“Small spaces do not agree with my huggable design.” Baymax agrees, and from behind him Honey covers up a laugh behind a quiet cough. “Hiro, the structure of this building is-”

“Interfering with your scanners. It’s okay, bud. Nothing I wasn’t expecting.” Hiro pats his chest plate consolingly. He has a feeling the GPS systems on their suits would face the same problems; god knows what went into the construction materials back then. He’s half expecting to step on some sheeting and find himself inhaling a cloud of asbestos. “Wasabi, unless you’re volunteering to take point, hang back. No one goes off on their own.”

Wasabi looks positively green at the idea; being at the front wasn’t his idea of self preservation. And if they were attacked from behind...well, Baymax could handle it.

“That honor is all yours.”

“Thanks.” He says dryly, GoGo falling in beside him as they begin the slow traverse down the next corridor. “We’ll probably need to start looking into these closed off areas. Sunfire isn’t going to just sit around in the open; especially if those readings during the day are accurate.”

“ _Fantastic_ …” They trudge on in silence for a while, and despite the heavy atmosphere, it’s...boring. Hiro keeps an eye on their rear, as well- but as far as he can see, there’s nothing.

It’s going to take them a while to check this entire place out...just for half an hour of action, tops.

“...Y’know, me and Tadashi used to come down here all the time.”

“Really?” Hiro starts, glancing back at Fred with open curiosity. He can’t make out the other’s face; not through his suit, but he can imagine the almost lax expression just from the way he’s walking.

“Yeah; sometimes he’d get caught up, so the detour helped. We spent a whole day once, trying to get into some of the shops without anyone seeing us at it.”

“...Wouldn’t of thought he had it in him.” Hiro admits. He finds it hard to imagine; his brother doing something against the rules. GoGo huffs, glancing over at him with a small smile.

“He was just as bad as you, sometimes. Just not in front of you.”

“It’s the Hamada curse- you’re just as bad, you know. You don’t stop until you have all the answers.” Fred shrugs, waving his clawed hands in the air. “Besides; there was nothing cool to find in the ones we managed to get into; just some roach infested twinkies that totally wouldn’t make it to the apo _fireball!_ ”

Hiro can hear it sizzling; the light ahead of them growing brighter as he hits the floor, the rest of the group following suit. It whizzes overhead, pummeling Baymax in the chest and sending the bot staggering back several steps, shoulder scraping against the wall.

“Baymax!”

“Honey, with me!” GoGo shouts; both of them are up and rushing forwards before Hiro can protest, Fred bouncing quickly after, and Hiro lets out a loud curse as he stumbles to his feet, rushing back to steady Baymax and pull the robot along with him. He opens the console on his wrist, static filling his earpiece as he engages the microphone.

“You better have a plan, GoGo!”

“It’s called _get out of the fucking tunnel, Hamada!_ We’re sitting ducks in here!” Another plasma ball comes rushing towards them; Hiro can dodge it, but Baymax can’t, hindering their process as the bot takes another blow.

“Fred, I could use some cover, here! Engage Sunfire; cut off the other tunnels! Baymax,” Hiro turns back to his companion, still pulling him along by one giant wrist. “You need to stay in the tunnel opening, alright? _Don’t_ let him get past you.”

“You are not safe.” Baymax advises. He pulls Hiro to his chestplate, arm covering Hiro’s back as another ball collides with them. The robot’s armorguard takes the brunt of it, but Hiro can still feel a sharp push on his shoulder, the back of his neck heating up for the briefest of moments before the insulation equipment inside his suit kicks in.

“Yeah, well what’s new? I’ll be safer if you stay here, buddy.”

“Hiro, we’re engaging.” GoGo tells him. “Fred took one in the shoulder; knocked him back into the wall.”

“I’m good; Sunfire’s doing his human torch trick, now.”

“I’ve got the other exit; there’s two, but one’s got a gate.” Honey informs him breathlessly, and even back down the tunnel as he is what Hiro can see is chaos. Bright bursts of flame, Fred leaping in and out of sight.

“Wasabi?”

“Engaging! _Trying_ to engage.” The man sounds panicked; letting out a loud whoosh of air into his speaker that has Hiro wincing. “Kind of difficult, here!”

“I’m coming. Baymax; get to the end of the tunnel and stay there. If he comes at you, keep him from getting out!”

“Hiro-” He doesn’t wait to hear what Baymax has to say; ducking out from under his arm, Hiro takes off, sprinting down the tunnel and ducking to the right once he hits more open space.

Another expansive hall with closed shops on the edges. One of the metal roller doors has a hole in it, the edges glowing ominously; the same glow coming from Fred’s shoulder, and doubtless, the back of his own neck.

Then there’s Sunfire. He doesn’t seem phased by Wasabi’s swords; ducking haphazard swipes and thrusting his fist into the man’s side, metal sizzling loudly as his team member staggers back. GoGo circles the two of them, pulling a chemball from her wrist and throwing it with almost deadly accuracy.

It strikes true, but just like before, Sunfire doesn’t seem phased. Ice grows quickly across the ground, only to evaporate just as fast wherever their target steps.

He’s good at hand to hand combat. Really good. It wasn’t something Hiro had time to appreciate in their first fight, and he appreciates it even less now, rushing at Sunfire from the side. The man doesn’t even falter; kicking Wasabi off balance before rounding to block a swipe aimed for the side of his head; but he doesn’t see Hiro’s other hand, chemball bursting against the side of his flaming skull.

It does something, at least. Be it the momentum behind Hiro’s swing or the chemball itself; Sunfire falls back- right into the thick dust caused by the chemical reaction, hanging thick in the air with no wind to stir it. The thick cloud is all he can see for a moment, dancing back several paces before Sunfire gets a swing right back.

“Fu- avoid the monoammonium phosphate. It’s not going to settle!” No sooner has he said it than a strike comes from his left; clipping his side and sending Hiro straight to the ground. Their armor is doing it’s job, but it can’t save them from physical impacts, and Hiro promptly rolls to his left, expecting a foot to come down at any moment.

It doesn’t. Through the settling cloud, he can see Sunfire making for one of the openings; for Baymax, one of GoGo’s discs melting before it can even make impact as the man leaps up, the ground practically exploding under his feet.

“Baymax, knife hand block!” The robot responds instantly, arm raising just in time. Sunfire’s foot collides with his raised arm, flaming hands gripping onto Baymax’s helmet as the man flips up and over; onto the robot’s back, swinging haphazardly as he swings back and forth.

If he drops down and starts running, they’ll catch him again. But he doesn’t.

One arm hooked about Baymax’s neck, Sunfire raises his opposite fist; and slams it down on Baymax’s face shield.

“Baymax!”

“What the hell is he doing?!” Honey cries, and Hiro knows. He knows, stomach sharply dropping as he scrambles to his feet, rushing forwards at the same time as GoGo, Fred and Wasabi right on their heels. The four of them converge; but too late.

He hears and _feels_ the crack that echoes loudly throughout the room, Baymax’s visor shattering as the robot spins in a wild circle. He could slam the man into the wall- but he wouldn’t. Baymax wouldn’t harm the man in any way that would cause more than temporary incapacitation, and he _knows it._

Sunfire knows. And that’s why he attacks him first. Leaving Baymax with sparks coming out of his face as he drops to the floor and begins to rush down the corridor, and Hiro sees red.

Enough. He’s had _enough_ of this guy coming in and destroying everything- anything to do with-

“Baymax, _stay._ ”

“Hiro, wait!” He ducks around Tadashi’s nursebot, leaving him behind. Leaving their friends behind as he sprints down the corridor; after the glowing man who’s not stopping. He can hear GoGo cursing as Baymax blunders in her way, and he still doesn’t stop. If he stops, Sunfire gets away.

If he stops, he’ll never get the chance to take all of his frustrations, his _grief_ , out of the man’s _hide._

The corridor stretches on, but travelling down it is so much faster without his team lagging behind him. He can hear sounds echoing down the corridor, and without paying attention to what’s being shouted at him, Hiro cuts the feed, letting GoGo rage behind him.

After Sunfire. Back into the oval room. He’s expected, but the ball of plasma that whizzes by is way off chart to strike him at all. Hiro isn’t hindered in his race towards the other, cocking his fist as Sunfire takes aim once more; over his head, at the-

“Guys!” Hiro shouts, skidding to a halt and running back towards the opening. He can see GoGo getting closer by the second, fumbling to turn the communicator back on, practically shouting. “He’s collapsing the tunnel! Go back!”

A loud sizzle overhead; there’s nothing he can do but watch the ball of plasma strike the roof of the tunnel, splitting rock and sending it crashing down as GoGo falls back, the last thing he sees before rocks come crashing down.

“Hiro, _run!_ ” He doesn’t have to be told twice. Rocks are still coming down at the entrance; coating the area with a thick cloud of dust that’s as much of a hinderance to his enemy as it is to him. All Hiro has to go off is his memory; a gate; run down and easy enough for him to get through. _Fast enough_ for him to get to.

“Hiro, we’re coming round. _Stay alive, man! We’re coming!”_ Fred yells through the feed, and Hiro breathes out an answer, coming to the wall and racing alongside it until he finds the gate. There’s a board- loose enough, but in the way. He needs it out of the way.

And the only way to do so is a loud, tearing sound, a flicker of light coming into view as Hiro scrambles past it, shoulders catching in the tight space before he’s through, and running. Down a hall full of locked doors; the time it would take to see if any are open too precious for him to waste as sounds of destruction reach him from behind.

Sunfire’s through, and Hiro doesn’t need to look back to know the man is going to be right on his heels, his own equipment lighting the way.

He can’t hide in a dark crevice. The only thing Hiro has going for him is running, leaping over piles of rubble where a brick has fallen out of the ceiling or wall, each footstep a loud clap that’s echoed disjointedly by heavy boots slapping against the ground behind him.

Run. _Run._ Fumbling at his wrist, Hiro throws a chemball behind him, trying to gain some distance. Buy some time by making the way all that more hazardous for Sunfire.

Fred was right about one thing; the development must have been for a car park. The space Hiro runs into is vast, columns dispersed about the area and faded white lines across the ground, an area to the left of him seemingly dropping down into god knows what. A ditch. The end of the world. Turning, Hiro throws the last of the chemballs, making a thick cloud at the entrance of the area before ducking behind a column and crouching low, panting as quietly as he can.   

“Guys…” He breathes out, eyes darting left and right. He’s waiting to see it; a glowing figure, a shape in the darkness. It’s possible that if he stays low, he’ll stay out of sight just...long enough.

“Hiro, we’re coming. Hang on buddy-”

“Hiro, where are you?”

“In the carpark Fred was talking about. Hurry up.” He wants to ask; who’s with Baymax. He needs to know Baymax is okay- and when the robot’s voice comes through, he almost slides right to the floor in relief.

“Hiro, my scanners have been damaged. Visual capabilities are at, fifty, percent.”

“That’s okay, buddy. I’ll fix it. You just sit tight; you’ll be okay. I gotta go. Guys, seriously- need you here five minutes ago.”

“We know.” GoGo says curtly, and Hiro freezes as Sunfire steps into view.

The fire’s out. It’s entirely possible that he ran out of juice during their chase, and Hiro’s heart leaps into his throat as the man looks his way. That helmet. He doesn’t know what’s in it- whatever Sunfire is sporting the same equipment as he is. Whether he can see Hiro crouched down against the pillar, clear as day-

The man moves along, and Hiro slowly lets out a breath before going after him, steps as slow and silent as possible. There’s no sound in here; chemicals still pooling at the entrance and spreading across the floor, making it difficult to see where he’s going.

He can’t see him anymore. Hiro keeps looking back and to the sides, every pillar that suddenly comes into view making his stomach drop. _Where is he?_

Slowly crouching back down, Hiro works on getting his breathing even, ragged pants a little too loud in his own ears. He should stay here. Wait for the others to come; move as a team. Sunfire was still dangerous without the flames. He’d taken Hiro down without them before. It’s stupid to keep chasing after him, but after several moments, Hiro moves on. Always looking. Pausing before every pillar to carefully creep around it.

Sunfire’s arm seemingly comes out of nowhere. Hiro yells, jerking back as his body jolts from the shock of it, dropping to the ground rather than allowing the man to get him in a chokehold. He rolls just in time; the world suddenly glowing brighter as Sunfire lunges down on the space he just occupied, hands coated in plasma. Not out of juice then. He _should be_ ; _it should be more than fifteen minutes, now. More than twenty._

He’s tackled before he makes it up off the ground, slammed down by a heavier weight as glowing hands grip his shoulder, and Hiro makes use of the momentum, flipping them over and kneeing the man in the gut. The loud wheeze is more than satisfying, but he’s gripped tight to the man’s chest, arms pinned as he kicks out, yelling for Baymax. For Fred. GoGo.

“Stop, stop-” Sunfire hisses at him, kneeling on his wrists. “Hiro, _stop._ ”

“Get _off_ me, you piece of sh-”

“ _Hiro, STOP!”_

The yell echoes about them, and Hiro stops. Staring upwards as Sunfire reaches up, hands still laced with molten heat, and pulls off his helmet, slamming it onto the ground next to them with a sound that makes the teen flinch, eyes unblinking.

Sunfire stares back at him, expression grim. Lips curved into a frown and eyes narrowed beneath a shaggy fringe; he’s angry. Furious.

But Hiro knows what color his eyes are without really seeing them, the brown hue lost to the eerie green of his infrared vision. Old and tired and _angry,_ Sunfire stares down at him and Hiro chokes on his own voice, on his own breath.

Sunfire stares down at him- Tadashi stares down at him.

Tadashi stares down at him, hands slowly losing that vicious glow as he shifts back, replacing the weight of his knees with fingers that curl over Hiro’s wrists.

“I told you to back off, moron. You still don’t know how to take a hint, do you?”

“..T….T’da…”

“I know.” Tadashi says, getting to his feet. He’s pulling Hiro up a moment later, still gripping one of his wrists tightly as his other hand lights up with fire, and Hiro fumbles with the latch of his helmet, letting it drop to the floor and blinking rapidly as his eyes adjust to the saturation of real colours; light catching off Tadashi’s skin. He clutches at his brother’s forearm, mouth opening in silent- something. Amazement. Shock. Fear.

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling, seeing Tadashi standing there. Holding his wrist and speaking to him like this is entirely normal. Like there’s nothing odd about this at all.

“But you...’Dashi?” Hiro’s voice breaks, and Tadashi finally looks at him; actually looks, sighing out as his tight grip loosens into something more gentle.

“I know, buddy. It’s really me. But we need to go right now, okay? Focus for me.” Something snaps in the darkness; like a branch being stepped on. They both look towards the sound, and Tadashi’s grip tightens as he pulls Hiro away, dragging him into a run. “You shouldn’t have come here, idiot.”

“Wait- ‘Da… Tadashi,” Hiro stumbles over his own feet, trying to keep up. Tadashi isn’t slowing for him at all, breaking into a sprint that Hiro is hard pressed to keep up with, struggling to process what’s been said. What he’s seeing. “What’s- you’re-”

“We need to get you out of here. _Now._ ” Tadashi’s hand flares up; this close, Hiro can see it. Right above the skin, the threads of his clothes burning up slowly, fire retardant material no match for the heat Tadashi is letting off.

There’s no tubes. Nothing up Tadashi’s sleeves that Hiro can see, yelping as he’s swung around, hidden behind Tadashi’s back as he lets loose a ball of plasma at something he can’t see. Then they’re off again, running in zigzagging motions across the carpark, back to the entrance of the hallway, down the rows and rows of doors.

“Wait- _what’s happening?_ Tadashi.” Hiro scrambles for words, panted out as he grabs at his brother’s jacket, pulling himself along. This isn’t real. There isn’t a chance that this is actually happening, but he persists anyway, dragging his heels to get his brother’s attention. To catch his gaze, to hear him _speak._ “You’re _alive-_ ”

“ _Hiro, I know!_ ” Tadashi snaps. “Believe me, well aware. But we need to go, _now_.”

Another sound from behind them; cracks and screeching that draws closer at an alarming rate. And Tadashi pulls _harder,_ herds him along and throws blast after blast at the ceiling behind them; the walls. Everywhere. Sending showers of brick and cement raining down in rapidly growing amounts.

“If it gets to you, it’s all over.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

For reference, I made a handy dandy [map of the underground tunnel system](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CONYU4DUcAAAhyW.jpg), and if you're the type who needs a little more stimuli for your imagination, try [this](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a5/Pedestrian_Tunnel_in_Newcastle_%286754729823%29.jpg).


End file.
